Make Some Magic: A Fred Weasley Fanfic

Chapter 19: Are You Ready?

Ryn_
She didn't have the words.
They were gone. Completely.

Out of the corner in her vision, she could see his figure. He gazed out at the sunrise as he propped his feet onto the table next to hers.
How had she not heard him coming?
Ah, the alcohol, she thought. What a mighty hangover.

She vowed never to drink again.

Hangovers were never one of her friends.
He groaned again, a pained sound that had come from the back of his throat. He reached out to grab her mug again and said,
"Mind if I drink the rest? It actually helps. Putting that advanced potions work to good use, I see?"
She tried to respond. Tried to look at him. Tried to breath.
But nothing came.
Nothing but those memories. The sound of her own moans, the feeling of his hot breath in her ear. His panting. His heartbeat pounding as his chest pressed flush against hers.
The look in his eyes.
Pure lust. Longing. Need. Desperation. The feeling of...him. How hard he was, practically throbbing stone in her hand, in her body. A sensation of pain throbbed and pulsed in her core as her body seemed to remember as well.
"Oi, Ryn. You listening?"
She couldn't do this.

She got up.
In one swift movement she was on her feet and turning away from him, walking on surprisingly steady feet back into the house. She'd have to tell him. Her heart was a raging beat in her ears as she put more distance between them.
He called out her name in a raspy voice.
She didn't go back. Her feet kept moving. How was she going to say something like that?! Hey, Fred, we fucked last night. Still friends? God, no. She needed to dig herself out of this hole. Fast.

Fred_
He would've got up, but the pain in his head rooted him to the spot.
Why had she walked away like that?
All he'd done was try and talk to her. The mug warmed his hands as he tried to think on why she left.
The intense presence of pain inside his skull didn't leave any room for thought.

So he sat there.
He sat there, and drank the tea as the sun rose and sent warmth into his muscles. He was sore everywhere.
Though, a strange satisfaction settled itself inside his bones. Like he could be calm and sit still for a while without any worries to pester him.
He hadn't felt like this in a while.
He'd dreamt of her, in his fever dream.
Now, as he remembered the dream, it eased the pain a fraction.
In his dream, they had been laying in his bed back in the apartment above the shop.
It was raining. And the room was semi-dark. There was a light chill in the air, but Fred was warm as his first love, Rynira, lay on top of him. He was on his back with his eyes closed in peace as she traced lines over the skin of his stomach and chest. She had one of her long legs draped over him, and her arm rested against his side as her head nestled against his shoulder.
Her fingers skimmed over his lower stomach and his muscles spasmed and his spine jerked.
He couldn't stop the giggle that tore out of him and the grin that spread on his face as he grabbed her hand and held it firm,
"St– stop– Rynira!"
A smile bloomed on her face and she fought to keep tickling him.
"Oh? Why? Does that feel...sensitive?!"
She yelled, as she set her attack onto him; tickling his ribs, his sides, his neck, everywhere. He jerked and rolled in the bed, laughing and wrestling with her as they play fought.

He snapped out of it, and set the empty mug down onto the bench. It set with a clink and he rolled his head, cracking his neck.
He'd known her long enough to sense when something was wrong between them. And he also knew that she never really wanted to be left alone when she was upset.
"Oh, for fuck–"
He hissed as he stood again, fighting the burn in all of his muscles. Once he stood properly, he practically limped back into the house after her.

She was in the kitchen, twisting and turning around the draws and cabinets to make some other kind of drink. He screwed up his face in discomfort as he leaned against the bench and half glared at her. She made a valiant effort at ignoring him. So, to snap her out of her childish behaviour, he yanked on the end of her hair.
Fear spiked through his heart when her head snapped to him at lightning speed and her eyes practically shun with anger.
Though, within a second, the anger simmered away, and she lightly slapped his crotch before turning away from him again. He immediately hunched over and pressed a hand over himself out of instinct and made a whining noise.
"Whyyyyyy!"
He exclaimed, feeling the slight shock fade out of his valuables.

She giggled.

Suddenly the discomfort between his legs didn't matter. He'd just heard the most beautiful sound in the world.
"You're avoiding me."
He said, and she made a face as if to say 'no way!' in the most sarcast tone possible.
"Why."
She paused at the stern tone in his voice, one he only ever used in serious situations. One he barely used since he loved humour too much to care about anything. She paused for a few seconds. The gears inside his head began ticking and turning, coming up with possible solutions as to why she was cross with him, but what she said next hadn't come up in his thoughts.
"We had sex last night."